


Honoured

by Munnin



Series: Red Mist Stories [15]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-18 03:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: How long can you hold onto hope? How long is seemly to mourn? How much time passes before that hope turns bitter?





	1. Held

Hugin’s icon was still there, in the lower left of their heads-up display as they headed to Dathomir. Orange - Active, pending contact.

At the time, none of them thought anything of it. Crispy’s was orange too – medical leave while he recovered from Kamino.

It wasn’t till after that mission, that Fordo had time to file the proper paperwork, that Hugin’s icon went grey. Missing in action. His icon pulsed slowly, still searching for a signal.

It was a small thing, but a consolation. To Crispy especially. Hugin was still there, still part of them. Still in their view. Not forgotten or abandoned. In the heat of battle, when danger pressed close, Crispy could glance down and see his brother there. And remember why he was fighting. Why he needed to keep fighting.

Because he still had things to do. He still had to find Hugin.

Three months later, Hugin’s icon vanished.

Crispy didn’t even notice it at first. They were neck deep on clankers at the time.

But when he did find breath and a moment to glance down, the grey icon was gone. Hugin’s place in the squad had never been filled so the pattern of little icons had rearranged themselves, taking away the empty space.

Not even the hole where Hugin had been was left.

They made it back to the ship by the skin of their teeth, Skate hovering low over the evac point to pick them up without landing. There wasn’t time to risk putting down. Things were too hot and the order to fall-back and regroup had come later than it should. Too many clones had been lost before command had acknowledged the rout.

But not from Red Mist. Or any of the squads they had been fighting beside that day. They were hauling injured with them, no-one was left behind.

Square Peg of the 308th straightened up in the confined quarters of the overcrowded LAAT, trying to get out of the way as Fernie and his own squad’s medic started working on his lieutenant.

“Thank you.” He held a hand out to Fordo, clasping his armoured forearm. “We wouldn’t have gotten out without you and yours.”

Fordo returned the clasp and nodded. “Just doing our duty.”

Square Peg shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like your man over there.” He nodded to Crispy on the far side of the packed cabin.

Fordo followed his gaze, seeing his own lieutenant leaning against a bulkhead. Crispy’s head was down, his armoured chest heaving. Every inch of his body tense and tight.

Square Peg wasn’t wrong. Crispy had fought fiercely, almost recklessly to get everyone to the pickup. He had dragged an injured trooper almost a click through rocky ground rather than leave him behind.

Fordo sighed and closed his eyes, realising now what Crispy must have seen during the battle – the changed pattern of icons. The absence. “A squad mate MIA’d in the field three months ago. They were close.”

Square Peg nodded sadly, understanding the implication. After three months a trooper’s status was automatically updated from Missing in Action to Missing Presumed Dead.  
“I’m sorry. What was his name?”

“Hugin.”

“Hugin.” Square Peg repeated. “He’ll be remembered by the 308th.” It was a promise – that the battalion would carry Hugin’s name along with their own honoured dead.

Before Frodo could answer with his thanks, the 308th medic interrupted, calling for his captain’s help moving the injured trooper.

***

Back on the ship, Fordo waited till the squad were gearing down, going through their own post-combat rituals, to approach Crispy. “You fought well today. The captain of the 308th has formally commended you for your actions.”

Crispy didn’t reply, nor meet Fordo’s eyes as he critically examining his damaged thigh guard.

Tired of waiting for Crispy to respond, and of the sullen silence, Fordo’s voice sounded as a sharp crack. “Squad, attention!”

Even in their states of half undress and coming down, the squad managed to come to attention with a snap. Fordo looked over his men – battle-weary but unbroken. “It’s been three months. Hugin has been officially declared dead.”

Crispy’s dark eyes blazed and he moved to step forward but Fordo pinned him with a look, going on without giving his lieutenant time to speak.

“There is nothing we can do. Without proof of life, that status cannot be reversed. That does not mean he will be forgotten. Just because he’s out of our view, does not mean he is gone from us. Hugin was our brother. He will always be a part of this squad. Am I understood?”

“Sir, yes sir.” The squad answered smartly.

Fordo put himself right in Crispy’s face. “Am I understood?”

“SIR, YES SIR.” They answered, louder this time. But Crispy’s expression remained sullen.

“Hold him here.” Frodo pressed his hand over Crispy’s heart. “And hold him tight. Then he’s never gone.”

A few days later they were deployed again, gearing up and checking their kits. It was only that Frodo glanced over at the right moment that he caught a glimpse of the inside of Crispy’s chestplate. Painted where it would sit over his heart was Hugin’s feathered leaf.

Hugin would be held close and tight. Never forgotten.


	2. Engraved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Mist and the 308th meet again, in a battle that doesn't feel right.

Fordo took his mug of caf up to the roof. It was a good half an hour before his watch but he was restless.

The battle had gone well. As well as these things could. The Separatist resistance had been fierce but the three clone platoons on the ground had made quick work of taking the objective. And with very few casualties. 

But their pick-up had been delayed. The fleet pulled away to some other engagements. 

So, the order was to wait. 

Hold, check your gear. 

Possibly for a few days. 

The prospect was not one Fordo enjoyed. There were things to do. Things they should be doing. 

But instead they were cooling their heels on a strategically important, but generally dull little moon. 

At least the rest of his squad were keeping busy. Red Mist had wasted no time rigging up some hoops and challenging the other squads to a round robin of hoop-ball.

Judging by how serious the competition was getting, Fordo guessed more troopers would be hurt playing than in the fighting. 

But he couldn’t get into the game, not even for his own squad’s pride. 

Instead he took his cup of caf and headed up.

“Captain. It’s been a while.” The 308th's commander Square Peg nodded a greeting and made room on the parapet. “We didn’t get to talk before the drop.”

“Needs must.” Frodo nodded in return, settling onto the ledge. The captured Separatist communications tower afforded them a good view of the valleys below and beyond. Quiet and seemingly peaceful now the day was won. But it the silvery light reflected from the distant planet, he could see the scars of battle.

Overturned tanks, the burns of blaster fire. The glittering carcasses of droids.

“None of ours.” Square Peg, almost as if reading Fordo’s mind. “We got lucky this time.”

“That should be a good thing.” Fordo commented, eyes on the horizon.

“But it doesn’t feel it, does it?” Square Peg shrugged. “It should but it doesn’t.” He had his hand plate off, thumb tracing the names and numbers cut into the underside over and over. 308th's honoured dead. No brother forgotten.

Fordo’s thoughts went to the inside of his own armour; the feather leaf painted inside, over his heart. Red Mist’s lost brother. How many more would he lose before this war ended. How many more marks would he have to make room for before it was enough?

“It was too easy.” Fordo muttered, almost to himself. “A view like this. They should have seen us coming. Long before we landed.” 

“Agreed.” Square Peg signed. “We need to get eyes in the blue and feet on the dirt.”

Fordo drained the last of his mug and activated his comm. “Red Mist, fall in.”

**Author's Note:**

> Red Mist Squad based on characters created by Joe Hogan for the [ The Siren of Dathomir](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3z0kyf53Ds) and [ Panic Over Muunilinst ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3-_EnhMEDE). Stolen, run away with, and abused with his permission.


End file.
